


Red As Cherry Wine

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: Cherry Wine [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Gags, Light Masochism, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Pegging, Riding Crops, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rehabilitation, from what Rey understood of the word, shouldn’t be easy. It wasn’t meant to be. If you needed rehabilitation, you needed assistance, you needed to admit something that you had done was wrong and needed to be fixed. It took a great deal of personal strength and dedication.</p><p>It wasn’t something she could ever see Kylo Ren, now the newly reclaimed Ben Solo, doing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red As Cherry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> So, first off this is A Mess™ and a half, so I do apologize for that, but I was 15k words in it, like five months overdue, and dammit I just want it out of my to-write list and gone. I might edit it later, but at this point I did a once over and I'm calling an audible. Just gonna say it's good. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This was going to be my submission for the Reylo Big Bang, but ended up not being able to finish it in time for the official deadline. Therefore, here we are. 
> 
> I know next to jack about the SW world, so I do apologize if this comes off as me sounding like an idiot but HEY there we are. 
> 
> Anyway. Thanks again!

Rehabilitation, from what Rey understood of the word, shouldn’t be easy. It wasn’t meant to be. If you needed rehabilitation, you needed assistance, you needed to admit something that you had done was wrong and needed to be fixed. It took a great deal of personal strength and dedication. 

It wasn’t something she could ever see Kylo Ren, now the newly reclaimed Ben Solo, doing. Not the same man who’d crossed lightsabers with her at every given opportunity, who’d wormed his way into her brain and picked and scratched at old wounds until she’d wanted to scream and cry and punch him in the face until he was nothing but a bloody mash. Who’d played with the bond that he’d unwittingly created between them until she’d learned how to turn it back on him, and led the attacks against the First Order when she’d discovered the true plans from the depths of his mind. He’d been strong, she’d been stronger. 

She didn’t think he was going to be strong enough to endure the rehabilitation that his sentencing had demanded of him. Being the son of the General Leia Organa was a definite point in his favor, but the genocide of millions at the hand of the First Order, and the patricide of Han Solo made this his only option outside of  lifetime imprisonment. Or death. He hadn’t been keen to choose either when presented with them. 

Leia had done everything she could to prevent a death sentence, and thus the leader of the Knights of Ren had fallen to the wayside. Ben was ultimately too powerful to simply lock up forever, so rehabilitation had been prompted as a neat solution to tie up the Solo problem. 

Rey was just going to go ahead and call it, anticipating that it wasn’t going to work. She was biased, of course. She’d seen inside his mind, felt the raw scraping edges of his rage and irritation at the Resistance and everything to do with it. She’d felt the yearning for his mother’s arms as it was shoved down by his desire to push forward in his First Order duties. She’d felt just how far Snoke had bled into his mind, had tasted his anger and his ambition and knew that he’d been too far down that hole to come back unscathed. 

The fits of anger hadn’t stopped once he’d come back to the Resistance, either, not that she’d expected them to. His first week had been a flurry of imprisonment in his room, involving thousands upon thousands of credits’ worth in damage as the General had fought to reconcile him with this new way of life. No one had  _ died _ , and perhaps that had been the only thing keeping him from lock up, but things were tense regardless. Personal guards had been instituted to keep an eye on him, the best that the Resistance could provide, and with help from the newly reclaimed Senate, they imported a few as well. Rey had been quick to volunteer, half bemused by his rampant temper, and half of her dying to watch him go down in flames, to see him burst into supernova and take himself out in a blaze of ego and anger. 

If it hadn’t meant he’d likely take some of her closest friends with him, she might even have let him do it. 

Yet there Ben Solo stood, in front of the duraplast dummy, training stave in hand as he used it to beat the ever loving shit out of the dark blue object, sweat trailing in thick rivulets down his face, as he had day after day. His anger management had been first and foremost, and watching him go berserk on the training dummy led her to believe that he was working at it, certainly, so long as it suited him. His was a violent personality, so assigning him to attack dummies and train was an easy jump to make. Getting him to sit in with a doctor to assess his mental situation? Not so much.

She’d seen the destruction left in the wake after the first session, had heard the complaints echoed through the base about how off-kilter and unpredictable he could be. Volatile. Rey could see it all in front of her, could see the burn out in a shock of sparks and futile attempts at reconciliation practically play before her. She sighed, leaning against the wall behind her, eyes shifting to stare at the chronometer on the wall telling her she only had a scant few minutes until her shift watching him was up. His training time had been cut down, significantly, and he was damn fortunate that it hadn’t been cut out all together. The last time he’d come down with another guard, said individual had landed themselves in the medical wing for interrupting him in the middle of his meditation. Trast’s legs would heal, the med droids had assured them all, but there was an uncomfortable tension from then on, and a sense of triumph wafting from those who thought he’d never be fully brought back. 

From below he must’ve picked up on her irritation with him as he shot her a look from where he stood. “If you’re so bored why don’t you come down here and give me a real challenge? I’d love to see you go again,” he said, sharp words gnashed between teeth, eyes narrowed as he stared over at where she’d positioned herself. Oh, how tempting his offer was. Her saber was securely attached to her side, but they had staffs she could use once she grew familiar with the weight of them. She’d love to knock him down a couple pegs, the once-lord of the Knights of Ren having claimed that he’d gone easy on her, that he’d been willing to take the scar that divided his face in two only because it was meant to gain her trust. Her fingers twitched, palms aching for the weight of the staff, but no. He’d had enough trouble fitting in. 

It was a pity his lying abilities were on par with his ability to knock her flat on her ass. She’d trained with Luke for months before they’d finally gotten to meet one another again, her at the head of the Resistance, him for the First Order. Their clash had rocked her to her core, had allowed her a greater insight into his head than the distance between them allowed when she was staying on Ahch-To. 

Now, with him half a dozen feet away from her, she could feel the way his irritation and desire warred with one another, could feel the heat behind his words like a flame licking at her torso when he tried to provoke her into further action. “You’re not afraid of me, are you Rey? You’ve got all the power here.” He sneered, his eyes narrowing, and she bit her bottom lip as her hands began to curl. “You’ve got the traitor best friend, the lightsaber courtesy of my traitorous uncle, and the war criminal Kylo Ren. What do you have to lose, scavenger?” 

The last word was meant to sting, she could feel his intent behind it, barbed and wicked, as it pricked its way into her mind. Her nails bit into the skin of her palms and she chewed on her tongue. “You talk too much, Solo.” She wouldn’t call him Ben, wouldn’t give in to that sense of familiarity or give him the pleasure of acknowledging he was anything less than the monster he’d been when he’d first taken her prisoner. “Why don’t you get back to practicing your forms? Seems like you’ve got a lot to catch up on from what I can tell.” 

She had to duck to avoid being hit square in the face with the stave as he threw it in her direction, face curled in a snarl that she felt rip through their Bond and dig its claws into her skin, determined to shred her to indistinguishable bits. The wood clattered to the ground after it hit the wall with a heavy thud, and her gaze leveled with his heated one. 

“Do I need to report this to the General?” 

“Get fucked.” 

She couldn’t help but smirk at that. He only wished, and she pushed the sentiment through the bond through to him. He snarled again, but before anything else could be done between them the doors opened to bring the new recruits in. The First Order may have been officially disbanded, but no group simply ever died down. The dregs would circle around and around until a new formation was created, and they had to be ready for that when it did. It wouldn’t matter what victories they’d won against one terror if they weren’t wise to the realities of the world around them. Finn led this group of fresh-faced recruits through, their gazes stopping once they hit Ben’s form standing at the center of the training room. 

Extending her hand and flicking her wrist, Rey shoved the training dummy back, through the crowds of people that parted for it, to where it’d come from. 

“Time’s up. Lunch time.” 

His previous bout of anger had left him by that time, however, and he ran a hand through his hair to slick it out of his face as he used the Force to move the stave back to its original position as well, following after her with easy, slow steps. She hated being shorter than him most days, hated having to walk double-time in order to get anywhere fast enough for the pair of them, but on days like today, where he’d already pissed her off, she took her sweet time. It was payback; he wasn’t allowed anywhere without an escort, which meant if he decided to walk ahead of her he had to hang back until she got there, or else walk extra slow to keep up with Rey’s shorter legs. The latter was the simplest, but the first time he’d tried to go ahead without her had resulted in her grinning as he tried to shout down a man three times his size who told him he lacked proper clearance to go just about anywhere. 

Now he shot a dirty look Finn’s way as they passed him by, Rey’s hand reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. He was recovering well from everything that’d happened; assimilating well, too. His knowledge of stormtrooper training had been invaluable, and though they didn’t dare indoctrinate and brainwash their employees the way that the First Order had insisted on, their modified techniques worked just as damn well as anything else the Resistance had planned. Finn’s returning smile had an uncertain edge to it that she wasn’t unfamiliar with. There had been plenty of backlash to the idea that Kylo Ren, Jedi Killer and Patricidal Maniac, previous minion of Supreme Leader Snoke and Attack Dog of the First Order, could ever be brought into the fold of the Resistance, among them had been Finn. He’d experienced first hand just what it was that Ren was capable of, and fooling them all with a ploy about turning a new leaf was definitely on the list. Though Rey was keen to point out that Finn, too, had once worked for the First Order and had regained his humanity through the Resistance, however, she knew that the similarities were too few to really make any difference. Finn had done what was right by leaving the First Order, but with Ben? 

She couldn’t read him. He’d done well to keep his walls and guard up when it came to their Bond, enough so that it felt like punching a wall of needles whenever she tried to sneak her way into his mind and tap into whatever it was he was thinking. It left her feeling dizzy, frayed at the edges, and weak-kneed in a way that wasn’t good, nor healthy, nor conducive to reading the man’s next actions. She’d been versed in throwing up walls and barriers of her own, but had no experience in how to tear them down. That was Ben’s level of expertise, not hers. No,  _ Kylo _ ’ _ s _ . He wasn’t that man anymore, she had to tell herself. Had to believe it. This was all a waste of time and energy if not. 

She let Finn pass without a word, and even with the bond closed between the two of them she could feel Ben’s agitation at the presence of the past stormtrooper, as though he’d personally offended him by being there. The idea was laughable, Rey thought. They’d barely said two words to one another and were only in the same room in passing.The closest she’d ever seen them come to talking was after Ben had tried to escape to his room when he was supposed to be out meeting with the General, and Finn had been seconds away from losing it because  _ Kylo fucking Ren  _ was on the loose. 

She wondered if Finn would keep calling him that until he died, the same way that Ben refused to acknowledge him as anything other than FN-2187, or traitor. 

She looked back at Ben, caught sight of him glaring daggers at Finn as the latter’s shoulder dug into Ben’s upper arm as they passed. Ben’s fists clenched at his sides. Rey stopped, stepping closer to lay a hand on Ben’s shoulder and try to steer him away. No way was she going to freaking deal with the pair of them getting into it today; she didn’t get paid enough. Hell, she hardly got paid at all for what she did, being a glorified babysitter, but it was an easy enough job and she never went wanting on the Resistance base. It was more than enough of a reason to supply her services so long as they were needed. 

And so long as she didn’t think about the idea that this might be going on for longer than a couple years, she was content with it. 

When he turned he tried to pick up the pace, to speed past her, only to wait for her at the door anyway, not having the proper credentials to even get the door to open. It wouldn’t do to let one of the two most force sensitive individuals on base to walk free. Rey was quiet as she stepped forward to flash her badge to the sensor on the door, triggering it to open so that Ren could storm past, leaving Rey to debate between hurrying along or taking her time. He was just going back to his room, or at least she was pretty sure he would be, which meant her duties were at an end for the time being. He’d be collected from there by the next guard. Her eyelids were already beginning to feel heavy with a desire to take a nap; she’d been up late drinking with Poe and Finn, not having wanted to return to her own sleeping quarters just beside Ben’s, where the silence between the walls and between them got to be too much. 

He hardly got three feet ahead of her before he turned on the balls of his feet to stare at her. His eyes were bright and fixated on her so intently it stole her breath. What now? 

“How is it you can stand that traitor?” he growled through clenched teeth. She could feel the air around him practically trembling in his rage, and she reached out once to try and tap into his mind as he stood in front of her. She was swatted away, Ben’s face twisting in a snarl. 

“Don’t try that--just answer my question.” 

She arched a brow. Really? He was going to try that shit with her? “He’s my friend,” she said simply. 

“And that’s it? All it takes to win your allegiance is a few petty words and you’re won over?” He sneered, as though the idea was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard, and she prayed up and down to the Force to give her the strength not to just knee him in the groin. 

“Well it’s a far cry more than what you’ve ever done for me.” Her words were so dry they hurt her throat, and it shut him up. “Besides, it’s none of your business. You aren’t exactly offering up a better solution, and you’re in the same boat he is. Aren’t you?”

Ben clenched his teeth and she swore she heard them grinding together. “Not of my own volition.”

“So that makes you superior to him?”

“Hardly. I don’t need to switch sides to be better than he is.” 

She arched a brow. “You’re over confident in yourself. From what I remember, he held his own against you pretty well in combat.” 

Ben advanced on her, and she swore this would be it. His carefully crafted mask of Ben Solo, repentant son of Leia Organa, was slipping to reveal the man who lay just beneath, whose hot words and cold eyes had haunted Rey for as long as she’d known him. He grasped her front in a fist and she felt her body go still in his grip. 

“Little more than luck.”

“Hardly. He beat you.”

“While I was injured.” 

She sneered, as though she wasn’t the one standing on her tip toes. “While you were in  _ pain _ , which is supposed to make you stronger. Or is that a lie you tell yourself to get you through the tough times?” 

She could hardly breathe, the air between them was so thick, and it made her cheeks burn to stare up at him and watch his gaze flick between her eyes, then slide down to her parted lips. His pupils expanded, and her stomach twisted. Just as soon as he’d grabbed her he set her back down on the ground and turned away, leaving her reeling. What the hell was that all about? 

 

He returned to spar the next day when Rey was in charge of watching him, but this time around he threw her a staff. She caught it with ease, the weight of the weapon familiar in her hand as she absently twisted it, all the while staring at him. “What?” 

He bent his knees, his right hand pulling back with his own practice sword in hand, while his left jutted out. “I need a sparring partner.” 

Right. He needed that like she needed a hole in the head. The last time they’d gotten into it had ended in him on the ground, her lightsaber to his throat, prepared to remove his head clean from his shoulders if he hadn’t turned the switch on his own ‘saber off. Surrendered. 

Something told her this wouldn’t be that sort of situation, and it knotted her stomach with the thought. “Not sure that’s a good idea.” She tossed the staff back, and he straightened to catch it. His brow furrowed deeply with confusion.

“Why not?” He tossed it back, and she caught it with a scowl. 

“Because the last time I kicked your ass. I don’t want you to throw a temper tantrum; we don’t have endless credit accounts like the First Order does when it comes to repairing what you’ve broken.” 

That got to him. His fist tightened over the handle of his training blade, and when she made to throw the staff back at him he Force pushed it back her way. “Just do it.” He swung his practice weapon around, feeling the weight of it, and Rey chomped down on the inside of her cheek as her own temper threatened to rise above. 

Fine.  _ Fine _ . But dammit all, she would  _ not  _ be the one going to General Organa to tell her about the situation when it inevitably blew up. No. Way. Shedding the brown robe she’d become accustomed to wearing, the one that Ben scoffed at every time he laid eyes on it, she let the staff become part of her arm, twisting and turning it until she was comfortable with her hold on it and her blood sang in her ears at the familiarity. She took her own stance on the opposite side of the mat that they’d come to stand on, and waited. 

Ben lunged first, and the first crash of wood on wood made her teeth clench, shoving aside his weapon to strike him in the neck with the butt of hers. He choked and stumbled backwards, not taking into account her range apparently, before unleashing a slew of attacks that had Rey stepping backwards in order to keep from being struck. She had to admit that, even though she didn’t particularly care for his style, he was damn good at what he did. The thought had plagued her since their first fight on Starkiller Base, especially in the years that had followed where they’d locked blades again, and he’d pushed at her harder than the previous time. She might’ve gotten one hit on him this time, but he wasn’t taking any quarter now, either. She would have to work harder than that to find an opening. 

She took a couple extra steps back to put some distance in between them, and when he swung to strike again she let the would-be blade connect with one end of her staff while she kicked out at him with her right foot, hitting him hard in the chest. He stumbled backwards, and it was the opportunity she needed to advance, ducking low to avoid a blow to the face and striking him mid torso, hard enough it ought to have cracked a rib. If he felt anything he didn’t so much as make a note of it, defending himself with soft growls and grunts as her attacks came faster and faster. He’d sneak a couple blows in, she’d retaliate, waiting for the opportune moment. When it came, Ben on the offensive and getting a little sloppy from exhaustion, she ducked low to avoid the horizontal swipe and instead brought her staff out to hit him behind the knees. He hit, hard, and she pushed him down with the blunt end of her staff in the chest, shoving him to the ground. There, she stood above him, the tip of her staff pressed to his bobbing adam’s apple, his eyes blown wide as he stared up at her. 

She allowed herself a grin, taking in just how sweaty he was, how spent they both were, and how  _ alive  _ she felt, when she noticed that his cock had tented the front of his trousers, and she felt her mind go blank. Ben, noticing what it was that had caught her attention, snarled and shoved the tip of her staff away before getting to his feet and storming off. 

He broke three dummies on the way out, but she supposed, with all things considered, it could’ve been so much worse. 

 

Three days later, and things had only grown more irritatingly confusing. Ben had disappeared, hardly going anywhere when it was Rey’s turn to watch over him, preferring instead to keep to his room until his second guard came to pick him up. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have said he was just a damn child, too afraid to come to grips with whatever it was that had spooked him before, but truthfully? It was grating on her, and there was only one person who she figured she could talk about it with openly. 

“Hey, Poe.” Rey looked over at the pilot where he’d taken his seat beside her. They’d come to eat their lunch outside in the warmth of the spring day, Finn training and running a little behind schedule, truthfully, but Rey intended to capitalize on that. 

Poe looked up, expression curious. “Hey, Rey.” 

“Got a question for you.”

“Shoot.” 

“What happens when a guy . . . likes getting beaten in combat? Not just bested, like I kicked his ass, but physically.” If she was doing her best to be nonchalant she sure as hell failed. 

Poe’s eyebrows rose. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But you want to know, so it does.” 

She scowled, picking at the food on her plate. Why couldn’t he just make this easy? Like she wanted? Honestly. 

“Well,” Poe started again, hiding a grin behind his hand. “What happened?” 

Rey licked her lips, thinking how to best present it without giving too much away. “We were sparring, and things were getting down to the wire between the pair of us, and I beat him. When I looked down he had a hard on and his pupils were dilated. Almost fully. I tried to ask him about it but he won’t talk it over.” 

Poe kept quiet, his expression growing pensive. Curious, even. 

“So?” she asked when she couldn’t wait any longer. She pursed her lips, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks the longer it took for him to answer. Was there something wrong with what she’d done? Or even in asking him? She had an idea, but Poe seemed to know a great deal more than she did. “Because,” she tried again, her brain moving faster than her mouth could keep up with. “If it means what I think it means, then--.” 

Poe’s gaze snapped to her. “It’s Kylo--Ben. Isn’t it?” 

She swallowed her tongue, or at least it felt like it, and gave the smallest of nods. She didn’t say anything, technically! But Poe didn’t mock or laugh like she’d been afraid he would. No, he simply sat there and puzzled it over as if she’d told him the most interesting story, his food shifted off to the side of him, forgotten. Her heart jolted at the waste. 

“Well,” he finally started. “It makes sense for him to enjoy pain, or submission. That’s what he’s used to, right?” 

She went quiet as she considered it, not having tied it back to the First Order. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t know what more there is for the First Order.” 

“It might be more than that, might be less. He might’ve always been like this, but.” His expression turned to a grin. “Your mission, young Padawan, should you choose to accept it, would be to use this information to the best of your ability to bring him back to the light.” 

She smacked him, biting her lip to keep from grinning. “Shut up. It’s not funny. Besides, how am I supposed to use pain to bring him back over?” She had an idea gnawing at the back of her mind, given his physical reaction the first time around, but there was always the hope that Poe might have something better. She  _ really  _ hoped he did. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, lips spread in a shit eating grin. “I mean. You have done it before . . . right?” 

Well, there went her plan about him coming up with a new plan. Her cheeks grew flushed and she reached out to punch him on the top of the shoulder again. What, was it share everything about themselves day? “Yes I’ve done it. I just--I don’t know if my variety is what he’s up for. It’s a lot more, well.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek and flattened her palms against her knees. “We took what we wanted on Jakku, It wasn’t always healthy. Or docile.” And there weren’t all that many alternatives. “I’m not sure he’d be up for it.” 

Poe grinned at that and patted her on the back. “I’m going to just put this out there, but that’s what he’s looking for, Rey. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” 

Yeah. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one doing the fucking. Still, she couldn't deny that some part of her, small though it may be, perked up at the idea. That only pissed her off all the more. 

If she did this--if it worked--she was going to ask for a damn promotion. 

 

She gave it a week to see whether or not Ben would come back to her on his own and in doing so she took her time to get everything prepared on the offhand chance that he did. If this was going to happen, if she could convince both Ben and herself that it should happen, then it had to be done well and quickly to prevent her from getting cold feet and backing out. Poe was a great help, though he’d poked fun at her the first time around, in procuring what it was she wanted without anyone batting an eyelash. 

A good thing, too, because she didn’t think she’d be able to ask anyone for the objects she’d requested, nor the amount of personal lubricant she wanted to have on hand, just in case. A few of the implements were a little old fashioned; there was no use for a riding crop on the Resistance Base, but from what research she’d been able to do while looking over her shoulder every two seconds, she thought it’d be the most helpful. And Poe was supposed to be dropping everything else off along with them tonight--. 

The knock on her door told her she wasn’t off by much. She grinned as she moved to open it, but paused when Ben stood in her doorway. Oh. That was a surprise. He had his other guard behind him, a short man who Leia trusted to keep her son out of trouble, and who stood off waiting to the side as Ben stepped inside without waiting to be invited. Right, so it was going to be one of those types of meetings. She nodded at the guard just outside, assuring him that she could take care of herself, before Ben closed the door. She felt her heart speed up, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She could take him on, had proven that to herself and to him, so why should she be afraid of anything that had to do with him? With that in mind she willed herself to relax and to even offer him a cautious smile. 

“So, what can I do for you, Ben?” 

He’d never been in her room before, at least not to her knowledge, and he was taking his time surveying the area, from the decorated walls with the small bits and pieces she’d picked up from her missions with Poe and Finn, to the unmade bed at the very edge of the room. She’d slept for so long with her back up against the metal siding of the AT-AT, that keeping her bed in the center of the room where it’d been put was . . . unthinkable. He took a couple steps around without saying a word, and she let him, her hands falling behind her back. Her fingers laced together to make sure that she wasn’t fidgeting, sure that she’d let off how nervous she was if she did, and with the walls between them up so that neither could listen in on the other there wasn’t any reason he should be able to feel it. 

Not until she felt the slow prickle of someone at her mind, at least. She frowned, pushing back against him. Excuse her? Did he think he could simply walk into her room and read her mind? No. That wasn’t how things worked. Where it felt like she’d thrown her fist into a wall of needles, she made sure that her walls  _ burned _ when he got too close. The way his eyes narrowed and his gaze zeroed in on her told her that he understood, and wasn’t at all pleased. 

“You really think you can lord this sort of secret over me?” he demanded as he stepped closer, his feet bringing him just to a couple inches in front of her, his gaze narrowed as he stared down his nose at her as though to ask who the hell she thought she was kidding. She felt him try to graze at her consciousness again, but didn’t get anywhere with it. 

She stared at him. “I didn’t try to lord anything over you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I saw you and Dameron talking,” he growled. “And I picked up the slightest hint of what the topic was from his mind. Why would you tell him about that?” He neared her once more, invading her personal space until she was gasping for some freedom from his gaze. “What sort of right do you think you have to tell someone like  _ him  _ that?” 

The sound of blood rushing drowned out all else, and before she could think she reached out a hand and struck him hard across the face. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate the way that his cheek went bright pink, the way his mouth hung open and how his pupils blew all the wider at the pain lancing across his cheek. Before he could say anything, she reached up with that same hand and dragged his face closer by latching onto the front of his tunic, pulling him down to her level. Did he really have to be so much taller than she was? It was hardly fair. 

“I told Poe, and Poe alone, because I wanted help trying to figure out what the fuck to do with you,” she spat. “But that was none of your business. You stay out of his mind, out of  _ everyone  _ else’s minds. Dammit Ben, you’re supposed to be getting better, not regressing!” 

He smirked as he leveled his gaze with hers, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth. She hated to think of what else he could do with that tongue, what else she could  _ make  _ him do with that tongue. Her cheeks flushed all the more. 

“Why? Afraid of what I’m going to find?” he demanded, voice darkening with every word. “They’re peons, beneath us. Cattle who need to be told what to do and where to go.” 

She wanted to smack him again, but threw him back up against the wall instead. She used the Force to pin him there, delighting in the hard sound of his body hitting the wall, and advanced on him with murder on her tongue. “You’re the one that needs to be told what to do,” she snarled. “You walk around like you’re better than everyone else but  _ I know you, Ben Solo _ . I know what it is you want, what your body wants, and you’re trying to tell me that you think you can take away their rights when really, that’s all you want?” She felt him fighting back against her, but it was halfhearted at best. He wanted to be seen making an effort, but didn’t want to break free. She could hear the way his breath stuttered, see how his cheeks grew even brighter, and it brought heat to her own gut. “You need to be told what to do because you don’t trust yourself with that freedom. Because you know, deep down,  _ you  _ need me to do it, need me to break you over my knee or underneath me, in order to feel like you’re better.” 

He whimpered where he was, and  _ oh _ , it was the sweetest sound she’d heard in so long. She pushed her thighs together and released him from the hold. He slumped to the floor, his eyes glazed over as he looked up at her. 

“I’m not going to touch you, though, until you tell me you want this. Until you think about it and tell me what it is you want from me. We can keep dancing around the obvious, or you can fucking fess up and get over yourself.” 

Another knock at the door made the pair of them go silent, Rey searching out to feel Poe at the door. “Come in,” she said simply, her eyes not daring to leave Ben’s as he got to his feet and pushed past Poe. 

“Door’s big enough for both of us,” Poe muttered in response, watching him leave with a curious arch of his eyebrows. He looked back at Rey before closing the door. “What was all that about?” 

She let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and shook her head. “I told him. Told him I knew what his . . . deal was, and that I was willing to help. But he had to tell me he wanted it, or else it wasn’t happening.” 

Poe’s lips opened in a small ‘o’ of understanding, before he moved closer to dump the contents of the box he’d brought in with him onto her bed. Her eyes appraised just what it was he’d managed to get, and her eyes immediately fell to the thick phallus that’d come tumbling out at the very end, already attached to a scrap of leather, with soft looking ties wrapping around the back. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. “Red? Really?” 

Poe’s grin split his face practically in two. “I think he’ll appreciate it.” 

“I think you’re ridiculous.” 

“Hey! You asked, I went out and procured you everything. I’m pretty awesome, thanks very much,” he said with a smug little humph that made her smile in spite of herself. Yes, he was, and she reached over to pick it up. It was a good length and girth, not too intimidating given she’d seen bigger, but it wasn’t meant to be painful. No, she didn’t intend on hurting him with that, and she set it gently down on the bed to reach for the crop that he’d gotten her, along with a whip, the long leather strands attached to a sturdy handle that fit perfectly in her hand. She reached over and used it lightly enough against Poe, who winced even with his jacket on. “Hey, watch where you’re using that thing.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I hardly touched you--you’ve taken blaster bolts to worse places that’d have hurt more than this.” 

He didn’t look so sure, but he let her go over the rest of it, the leather collar and wrist guards attached by thick chains that sent chills down her spine at how cold they were, the blindfold. The red gag whose color matched that of the dildo he’d gotten her. She grinned in spite of herself. “You’re the best, Poe.” 

“Yeah, remind me of that when you actually convince him to use those. And tell me exactly what his face looks like when you--. You know what? Nevermind. I like to imagine just how shocked and horrified I think he’d look, but the reality will probably be much less satisfying.” 

She hit him again and he laughed it off this time. 

 

Ben kept his distance from her for the rest of the week. Either he didn’t want to give her an answer, or she and Poe had misread him entirely. She wasn’t sure which one irritated her more, only that as the days went on, she grew more and more restless without any sort of release to be found. The crate of items that Poe had gotten her stayed in her room, hidden just underneath her bed for easy access, and though she’d cleaned everything to make sure it was all ready for the time when she’d need it, it didn’t come for whatever the reason. 

When he finally did track her down she was in the middle of sparring with Finn, the ex-stormtrooper’s forehead shining with sweat as he ducked and dived under her reach before trying to take her down himself. She managed to avoid the blow to her rib cage, but felt his carefully aimed kick come in contact with her hips, the pain glancing at first but grew worse as she put more pressure on it. Nicely done. 

From behind Ben cleared his throat, and Finn’s surprise at seeing him there gave Rey the opportunity she needed to flip him onto his back, before turning around to look at Ben. His eyes were narrowed, his expression what could only be called murderous, and it itched at the back of her mind where she’d seen it last. 

Oh, right. He’d been screaming at the pair of them as Starkiller Base had been going up in flames around them, yelling that Han Solo couldn’t save them and demanding she come back with him. Ridiculous. She looked back to Finn and gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. 

“Gimme ten?” 

“Yeah, no problem.” He didn’t know what she’d told Poe, Rey not so sure that she wanted him to know just what it was she planned on doing with the man who’d once been Kylo Ren, assuming he’d come to accept her proposal. She didn’t think Finn would ever look at her the same way, and honestly she didn’t want to take the chance of him being able to tell her that he’d told her so if ( _ ‘Once _ .’) it blew up in her face. She was far too proud for that. 

Summoning her water bottle to her hand, she took a quick slug of water as she followed Ben away from where she and Finn had been sparring, interested to see him fidgeting where he stood. So he was nervous, that was a good sign she supposed. His gaze followed where Finn had stepped off to the side, waiting until he was out of earshot before he bent closer to her to murmur: “Just what would this deal of yours entail, exactly?” 

“Depends on how serious you are about it,” she retorted, but made sure to keep her voice low as well. “What lengths are you willing to go through to help yourself get rehabilitated?” 

The left corner of his lips tilted upwards in a smirk that made her gut clench. “You assume you’re good enough to get me to that point. You claim that you can, what? Fuck me into being a better person?” 

“Not claiming. I’ll prove it,” she said, tilting her chin a little higher as her eyes narrowed. Why did everything have to be so challenging with him? Just who was he trying to impress, exactly? Any other day she’d have said he was aiming to impress her, but then why wouldn’t he be eager to immediately go along with it? It was making her head spin, and she needed to maintain a level mind if she was going to negotiate this. “I think you’re curious as to what I can do. You know how powerful I am, but you don’t know just how strong I can be for the both of us. I think you have too much going on in here,” she reached up to tap her fingertips against his right temple, and he didn’t pull away for once. “And you need someone to help bring you down. Am I getting closer?” 

“How?” he asked through tight teeth. She felt his curiosity tugging at her mind, but she kept her guard up. 

“While you weren’t all that eloquent when you put it as me fucking you back to being a decent individual, you’re not half wrong. Certain sexual practices can have your desired effects, helping you calm down, helping you find your center. Might work better than meditation.” They both knew he was absolute shit at that, and he bristled at the reminder. “Look, I’m just trying to do what’s right.” 

“By fucking your enemy?” he sneered.

This, again? “You’re not my enemy,” she growled. “You’re my colleague now. Whether you like it anymore or not, you signed on for the Resistance. You denounced the Dark Side, so let’s work on keeping it that way.” 

“Not so sure your variety is the most Jedi-approved way.” 

“It’s not,” she promised quickly. “But it works. And I’m not a Jedi, anyway, am I?” She’d never completed her training, not with the war going on. 

He grew silent, considering it with a deep frown that pulled in the dark features of his face. She wanted to try and pry into his brain, to see what his thought process was on the whole matter, but didn’t. She’d told him to stop, so it only made sense for her to do the same thing. 

“When . . . .” He licked his bottom lip and swallowed hard. His gaze was unfocused, and his hands jittery when he tried to still them by clenching at the sides of his trousers. “When would we start?” 

“Tonight, if you wish.” 

He nodded quickly, though he looked furious with himself for giving in so easily. She smiled and stepped up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in a tight, unforgiving grip of her own. His hand dwarfed hers, and without having to tap into his mind she could feel his surprise, but there. No going back now for either of them. 

 

She wished she was far more calm than she felt, because as it stood her stomach was an anxious heap. She was moving to collect him from his room and her palms were so sweaty she wasn’t sure she’d be able to wield her lightsaber properly, let alone get through this first night. She needed to calm down, though, needed to find that island within her. The ease it would give her over her nerves was one she was desperate for, that Ben needed her to have. 

She’d knew how the technical parts of this sort of . . . tryst were supposed to go, but the mentality of it? That was all new to her, and if she didn’t do a good enough job she worried he would suffer for it. Not in the way he was thinking, either. 

Her hands had at least calmed down enough that her knock came out loud and clear, the slight skip in the beat,  _ da-dada _ , signalling it was her. He took his sweet time coming to greet her, allowing her to sink further into her worry that this was a terrible,  _ terrible  _ idea, but when he opened the door before her she nudged those thoughts from her head. Like her, he’d dressed light, in a simple grey top and pair of loose fitting black slacks tucked hastily into his boots. No point in dressing up when it was all going to be taken off, she supposed. Hadn’t that been why she’d forgone the bindings over her breasts that evening, as well as all other undergarments? 

That and she didn’t trust him not to rip them. She’d seen what his anger could do, so what in the galaxy was she supposed to assume he’d do out of lust? 

No matter, this was supposed to be about him listening to her, about giving in to her control and letting his doubts disappear. If he did something like that, she’d call the whole thing off. This wasn’t a hook-up, it was tactical. Important. 

So why was her stomach swan-diving from a mountain top? 

Wordless, they strode down the halls back to her room, where she tapped in the code to allow them both in. The sound of the doors closing echoed in the silence between them, and her mouth went dry as she turned to look at him. 

“Do you--usually, there’s a word that’s established ahead of time, so that I know when you use it I’m supposed to stop. Do you have one?” She asked, wishing she didn’t sound as nervous as she did. 

He picked up on it, expression curling into one of curiosity. He was probably wondering why in the hell she’d offered if she was getting this damn nervous, and really . . . she couldn’t blame him in the slightest. “A safeword?” he supplied. 

Her cheeks burned. “Yes. One of those.” 

“I’ve never needed one before.” 

Her gaze narrowed. “You need to establish one now. I’m not taking the chance of going too hard or too fast with you--.”

“You won’t.”

“Look,” she snapped. “Either give me a kriffing safeword or I’ll walk you back down to your room. Why is everything so difficult?” 

He was silent in the wake of her outburst, leaving her cheeks to heat up all the more. Real professional, that had been. She was doing a hell of a job right off the bat. Though she hated to think about giving up, she had half a mind to just send him back when he dipped his head. 

“Island.” 

She tasted blood when she bit on the inside of her cheek. Right. “Alright. You say that, and whatever is happening stops immediately. I promise.” 

He nodded that he understood, and again the silence pressed heavily between them until Rey thought she’d suffocate. Steeling her nerves as best she could, she reached over to take his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his wrist in slow, counterclockwise motions. She couldn’t see into his mind, the barrier between them thoroughly shut, but his pulse felt steady enough and she’d take that as a good sign. At least he wasn’t as anxious as she was. 

There was still one thing left she wanted to clear up, though, and when she opened her mouth she watched his shoulders tense. “What do you want out of this? Besides the obvious. I’m here to help you, so what is it you want from me?” 

He didn’t respond immediately, and his expression turned curious, as though he hadn’t considered the question. She didn’t press him for an answer, not wanting to hasten him into explaining it incorrectly, or giving her the answer he thought she’d want. That wouldn’t do either of them any good, not really. He let her hold his hand, feeling his pulse steadily speed up as he drew his tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Honestly?”

“I think that would be best,” she said simply. 

His lips twisted in a wry smile as he held her gaze. “I want the voices in my head to shut up. I was only ever in full control and at peace with myself when I was fighting, when I had a purpose in mind. When I was working towards pleasing someone, or doing what I was told. I’m hoping that this might be able to replicate that in a more . . . pleasing fashion. You know how to do that, don’t you?” 

She hoped so. Poe had grabbed her a few holos about the intricacies of a relationship like this, what to look for, what to be anxious about, so she was pretty sure she had a good handle on it given her own experience. Hence the safeword. She nodded to answer his question, forcing herself to look as confident as she could muster. “Yes, I think do think I can. Do you trust me to?”

There it was. He paused, and she felt his heart jump, sure that hers was doing the same thing even without them feeling one another through the bond. How were they to get anywhere with this unless they could trust each other, yet how could they do that when all they’d done is fight in the past? 

“Worth a shot, I guess. I’ve got nothing to lose.” 

She frowned. “That’s not a great attitude to have. I trust you.” And she did, honestly. She trusted him to at least tell her when he’d had enough, when he couldn’t take anymore. “And I trust myself. Do you? Because if not, we can’t do this, so be honest.” The last thing they needed was for this to get messy, to stretch the chasm between them all the farther apart when their bond kept trying to shove them together. It was an uncomfortable position to be sure, but if they could learn to work at it then there was a chance to at least rectify the situation. 

Yet he was silent for so long she was sure they’d never get started, wasn’t sure he’d be able to admit to her in all honesty that yes, he did trust her. She cleared her throat, shaking her head and letting his head. “Look, we don’t have to do this--.” 

“I trust you.” 

She eyed him, gaze steely. “You better not be lying, Ben Solo.” 

He stiffened at the name, but shook his head. “I’m not. I do. I trust you to be able to give me what it is you know I need, and trust myself to . . . I dunno, take it. I guess.” 

Right, because that sounded promising. She’d have called it off at that moment if it wasn’t for the way he looked at her. He was as desperate for this to work as she was, and his words came back to haunt her. He’d been without a clear purpose on the base since they’d brought him in, since he’d defected, and his irritation with Finn and Poe made sense the more she thought about it. Finn had pulled away from the First Order and he had a job, had their trust without having to prove himself the way that Ben did. Poe was his mother’s favorite, and he’d been given an insane amount of responsibility. Even though he’d grown up on the base, and Rey had reason to believe Poe and Ben had grown up at least near the same time, had possibly even been friends, it would be difficult to see him so high in a position of power without ever being given the same opportunity. 

Still, she couldn’t blame the General for withholding the responsibilities, not without them knowing just what it was that had brought him back to the Light side, and whether he was going to stay there. Truthfully, Rey would’ve done things the same way. Both sides made sense, and now it was her to turn to try and ease him into the situation he’d now found himself in. They could make this work, the pair of them. They had to, she had to. She couldn’t handle the disappointment of failing when the General was counting on her, when so many members of the Resistance were counting on her. Just because the war was over didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a separate faction to rise up from the ashes of the First Order, as they had risen up from the remains of the Empire. It was best to have two strong Force-Users on the same side rather than acting like a pair of bickering children. 

She stretched one hand upwards to his face, and laced her fingers through his hair, tugging him down forcibly to press her lips against his own, closing her eyes and pressing her tongue to the seam of his lips. He let her in without hesitation, and the whimper that left his mouth made her want to shiver. She squashed that desire in favor of tugging at the very base of his hair, feeling him whine as she pulled him down to her level, then further, until he was lowered to his knees. There, she released him, staring down at him through hooded eyes. She had to clear her throat to keep her words steady, and even then, she really hoped she didn’t sound as stupid as she thought she might.

“You’ll crawl to the bed, Ben Solo, and remove your clothes before laying down upon it.” They weren’t going to do all that much the first night, just establish the situation and relationship between them, but the way he was looking at her, the amount of awe and desire in her eyes, made her want to take him every which way in one sitting. Still, he did as she asked, leaning over onto his hands to crawl towards the bed, toeing off his shoes and socks as he went. As he paused to shrug off his tunic top she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching him make his way towards her. The stretch of his pale skin, the muscles moving underneath, was glorious to behold, and she smiled in spite of herself as she watched him grow closer to her. 

“Fold your clothes, don’t just throw them around my room,” she said when he tried to toss his tunic away. He paused, and sat up and back on his haunches to do so, placing it off to the side. As much as she knew this wasn’t for her, it felt like something that had pulled its way out of her very deepest of fantasies, the ones that made her glad that she was so adept at throwing her walls up to keep Ben out. His pupils were dilated, and when he stood to undo his trousers she felt her mouth begin to water as she saw he was already hard and ready for her, his trousers folded and sat on top of his tunic. He moved to take a seat on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and she motioned for him to lay on his stomach. He obeyed without her needing to ask twice, and it shot a bolt of pleasure through her that she knew ought not to have been there, but oh well. It was. 

With his face buried in the pillow of her bed, she leaned over to reach under her bed. Her fingers came across the leather handle of the riding crop, pulling the thin instrument out and feeling the comfortable, familiar weight in her hands. 

“How comfortable with pain play are you, Ben?” she asked, trying to her words as light as possible, but he shivered at the thought all the same. 

“Quite.” 

“Then you know what your limits are? And to warn me when you’ve had enough?” 

“Yes.” 

With a swish of her wrist, she brought the crop down on his backside, a thrill of arousal chasing her spine at the crack it made as it made contact with the globe of his ass, and the groan that followed was just short of heavenly. She ensured that it sounded far worse than it felt, but still there was a heat that rose up within her to stain her cheeks as she noticed the skin growing red. “Call me ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he quickly amended, burying his face between his arms in front of him. She could see his erection pulsing between his legs, twitching as he struggled to remain still as she ordered him to rise up on all fours, keeping his ass up in the air so that she had better access to it. After the initial crack of the leather against his skin she rubbed her free palm against the soft skin, warming it up with a few light taps so that the skin flushed beneath her palm, before bringing the head of the crop against his skin in a slow, rhythmic pattern. He buried his face in the pillows, moaning ever so often as she would alternate between the pain and sensation of the leather and her running her fingernails over his back. Every so often she’d sneak a hand between his legs, and tug at his cock or fondle his balls, delighting in how he’d whine and push back against her. 

“Patience,” she warned him when he tried to reach for her wrist, to keep her in place, and rewarded him with a hard smack against his ass. His hand had flown back to clutching at the pillows, nails digging in as she continued. There was something reassuring about the way he seemed to go lax and tense beneath her at the very same time, how she could count on him going tense as he anticipated a blow, only to have him jolt forward when she either sped up the rhythm or slowed it down to keep him on his toes. His breathing became labored, and when she reached for his cock to pleasure him he bucked his hips along with it, precome dribbling against her hand. 

She grinned and pulled her hand away. “Turn over onto your back,” she ordered, voice soft, and he did just that. His gaze, she was pleased to see, was glassy, his lips red and swollen from where he’d bitten them. “You’ve been so good for me, Ben,” she praised him, setting the crop off to the side so that she could undo the first few buttons of her blouse, loosening it just enough so she could pull it up and over her head. Her breasts, encased in deep red lace, caught his attention immediately, and his gaze zeroed in on her them even as she shimmied out of her loose trousers, kicking them off to the side. “How is it you’re so good for me, and so bad out of this room?” She reached a hand up to stroke the side of his face, and smiled to see him press his cheek into her palm. “You may answer me.” He was so good without her having to explain the rules to him, it astounded her. 

“I wanted your attention, ma’am,” he admitted, though his voice was quiet. She slid her hips against his hardened cock, the lace of her panties dragging against the highly sensitive skin of his cock and causing him to groan.

“My attention?” She asked with a smile. “You must know the way to get it is to be good. Don’t you? Won’t you be good for me?” 

He whimpered, and she dug her hands into his hair, pulling at the hair at the base of his skull when he didn’t answer immediately. “Won’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” he gasped, eyes fluttering into the back of his head as his breathing became stuttered. She shifted upwards, having to practically crawl up his body in order to place his hands up at the very top of her bed, curling his fingers over the edges of the bed for him.

“You need to keep them here, understood?” she asked, and delighted in the way his cheeks flushed as he looked up at her, her breasts nearly level with his face. She didn’t miss the way he eyed them, clearly considered that he could lean up, but it would mean he’d have to let go of the bed. 

“Yes ma’am.” His voice was hoarse, and she bit her bottom lip as she slithered back down his body until her hips were firmly slotted against his. She rocked her hips against his, teasing him with just enough friction, and yet clearly not what either of them were looking for, yet he didn’t say anything, didn’t beg, didn’t whine, just took it. She was almost disappointed, and leaned down to push aside the fabric of her panties, sliding her slick slit against his hard length. 

He hissed through his teeth, and she felt the Force tug at her, begging her to come closer, to take him into her body. She couldn’t resist, and slowly eased herself up onto her haunches so she could slide onto him, taking him in one inch at a time. He wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination,  _ oh no _ . She could’ve forgiven his attitude if he was, could’ve figured he was compensating by being an asshole most of the time but  _ fuck  _ he filled her up and then some, the head of his cock pressing to that sweet spot within her with every buck of her hips. 

Of course, it meant she kept doing it, finding her own rhythm as she let her nails bite into his abdomen. He was well defined, something she’d figured by how much time he spent working out but had never seen until right then, and what a glorious sight it was to behold. He keened, and his back arched when she pressed hard into his skin, letting her nails leave small half moons in their wake. He took it without anything but a soft noise of appreciation, and she ground her hips against his, watching while his forearms and biceps tightened with his determination to keep his hands where they were meant to be. 

It didn’t take her long to get off using him like that. She leaned back to balance herself on his knees, bringing one hand to stroke her clit in a quick, rhythmic fashion, adding just enough pressure to bring her to bite her lip. His eyes never left her all the while, appraisingly watch her fuck herself on his cock, the color in his cheeks rising as he tried bucking up and into her to bring himself off quicker. She shut that down quickly, digging the nails of her right hand into his knee. 

“Did I tell you to do that?” She asked, her tone biting as he immediately stilled and shook his head. 

“No ma’am.” 

“Then keep your hips still until I ask you to do otherwise. Do you like this?” She asked throatily. “Me, fucking you? Me using your body for myself? You’re so wonderful at it, and your cock feels perfectly within me.” She wasn’t so sure about her dirty talk, and had to force herself to think about how good it felt, rather than how embarrassed she was at her words. 

If Ben noticed he didn’t say anything other than “yes, yes ma’am, I do.” And she kept going. Her knees began to ache after too long, and her body was growing flushed with the impending orgasm. 

“I don’t want you to come until I do,” she ordered, grinding her hips in a clockwise motion so that he whimpered beneath her, nodding frantically. He was growing desperate, she could see it in the way his eyes were going glassy, and she reached over to bring a hand against his face. 

“What was that?” She demanded. “I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he groaned, his head tipped to the side. Again, she was amazed by how easily he responded, how docile and good he could be when he was taking orders. If she’d have done this when he’d first joined up, eased him into the way the Resistance did things, would it all have turned out differently? 

She saved those questions for another day, pressing her left hand harder to her clit until she came with a shout. Her body clenched around his, and she felt him hiss through his teeth, but he didn’t come. Even as she rode out the aftershocks, her cunt squeezing his length as hard as she could, he refused. Pain edged on her mind, and she noticed he’d pressed his fingernails into his palms so hard he broke the skin. It concerned her, and she reached over to take his hands in her own, squeezing the wrists. 

“Do you like hurting yourself?” She asked, her voice quiet as she continued to fuck him. Her cunt was growing sore, but in the best sort of sense, the one that screamed of a job well done and an evening well spent. 

“Sometimes.” 

“I don’t want you to do that anymore.” Her voice was sharp, and the glaze that had spread over his eyes disappeared. “I want you to stop doing that. Find a new, creative outlet for your tendencies. Rip apart pillows. Train harder. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself, Ben.” She pressed her lips to the heels of his palms, murmuring against his skin. “Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good boy.” She released his hands back up to the top of the bed, flattening herself against his chest and, admittedly, holding on. “Now fuck me until you come.” 

A wise choice, it turned out, holding onto him. His every thrust made her whimper and shake, her whole body moving with every thrust of his hips. He didn’t last long like that, Rey having built him up just enough to watch him tumble gracelessly into his orgasm, stilling with cock buried in her and come seeping between them. As he came down, she slowly slid from his chest and moved towards the bathroom to grab a soft cloth and wet it down. He was still laying, prone, on the bed when she returned and it brought her to smile. “You can relax now, Ben. You’ve done really well for me.” She padded closer, watching his every muscle inch back to a resting position, his jaw relaxing as his eyes followed her to where she went to sit just beside him. Using the cloth, she wiped the come she’d spread over his groin, then used the other side to wipe down the sweat that covered his body in a fine sheen. 

“How do you feel?” She murmured as she worked, her eyes carefully tracing the bowcaster wound on his left side, wanting to touch it but not daring to. 

“Good,” he said, voice thick and groggy, his head turned slowly towards her. “Did I do okay?” 

She smiled as she turned to face him, nodding. Her free hand stroked his scalp gently, and he keened as he pushed into her touch. “You did wonderfully. I’m going to go take care of this washcloth, then I’ll be right back. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he murmured, letting her go. 

When she returned, he’d settled up on his right side, and she eased herself onto the mattress just behind him. As she’d expected, her groin  _ hurt _ , and her muscles ached with it, but she wrapped one leg around his waist anyway and fell asleep with the slow thrum of his heart as her guide, rubbing his back until she lost consciousness. 

 

She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, honestly, after they’d finished. She fell asleep with him in her arms and woke up to the sound of the ‘fresher being turned on, the scent of her plain soap cutting the air. Where there had been tension before it all seemed, somehow, more relaxed. Her shoulders were looser as she shrugged and stretched, an ache setting into her muscles that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Huh. She should’ve started doing this forever ago. 

Something had changed with him, too, she noticed once he stepped out of the small room, his black hair thick with water and lips still swollen from where she’d bit them. His eyes looked clear, far more so than before, and he spared her a small smile when he caught her looking at the red, ragged lines her nails had left along his chest. 

“Sleep well?” he asked, body lax as he moved to where he’d folded his clothes last night. She nodded, watching the towel slip away, and his well shaped backside disappear beneath a sheath of fabric. Hopefully no one would notice that he wore the same thing twice, though she didn’t know why it mattered. On base flings and hook ups, relationships even, were more than encouraged and allowed. Finn and Poe were a couple, after all. So what if her fling happened to be with the General’s son, their once enemy, and Snoke’s once trained bloodhound? Well, when she put it that way . . . . 

Still, this was her decision, her body, and her choice. She’d be damned if she let anyone ever tell her what she could and could not do with her personal life. Of all the things she’d gone without in her life, a sense of control over her own body had never been one and it wasn’t about to change. Ben met her gaze when he turned to look back at her, pants firmly in place, those wonderful marks she’d left on him covered up by his tunic top, and silently she mourned the loss of the sight. The look he was giving her now dripped with bemusement, so sure that she would not show the same boldness that he had. She felt her jaw clench. Without missing a beat she slid from the opposite side of her bed, stripped bare, and padded towards him. Even if he didn’t say anything, and even if she’d been blind, she’d have been able to tell he was shocked. That pleased her. The heat of his stare made her giddy, and when he wrapped one arm around her waist she fixed him with a look that stopped him in his tracks, his arm still outstretched and his expression curious. Hesitant, even. “Please,” he said, voice low and she relented. 

His grip was firm but not horrible, and his body was warm against hers as he held her tight. She smoothed her fingers over his hips, feeling his breath stutter as a result, and grinned. Not too bad for their first time. 

“Next week, if you feel like you need help clearing your head, you ask,” she reminded him, keeping her voice soft so it reverberated between them both. 

His body went rigid. “Next week?” 

“This is for when you need it. When you need to clear your head,” she reminded him, gripping his chin just firmly enough now to keep his attention. “If you need it before then, well, we’ll see about it, but let’s try and go the full week.” 

He opened his mouth to argue, actually had the words “but I want--” out of his mouth when she stopped him dead with a quirked brow. 

“Ben.” He shivered at the sound of her voice, that  _ tone  _ he’d come to understand after the first time alone. “This isn’t about what you want. This is about what you need. Yes? Isn’t that what you told me?” 

He didn’t answer, his eyes turning elsewhere as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. She didn’t have to get into his head to know he wasn’t pleased, and she stepped out of his grip. Her voice hardened, “Answer me.” 

She’d have thought the tone would snap him to attention, but he simply glowered down at her. Fine. He wanted to be difficult? “Pants off and get on your knees.” Her voice went flat with the order, eyes growing steely as she watched him go stiff at the sound. His movements from there were quick, eager, almost, and this time he made sure to fold his pants from the get go. He knelt in front of her as she ordered, but annoyingly still came up to near her hip. If he sank backwards just far enough she could actually sit on his face without issue--. 

The thought made her shiver. Instead, she took a seat on the edge of her bed. They both had to learn self-control, it seemed. “Sit across my lap. Lace your hands in front of you and press them to the ground.” 

He wetted his lips, but did as she asked without question. His weight wasn’t uncomfortable, she wouldn’t say, but it was grounding to say the least. She hummed quietly as she ran her hand over his backside, stroking the soft, pale skin with her palm. He shivered underneath her attentions, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t intrigued by his responsiveness to everything. How much pain had he known that he looked forward to it? His choice to study under Snoke, to pull away from the Jedi, was beginning to make more sense as she kept thinking about it. Her hand smacked his left cheek and she was sure that the surprise made him jolt more so than the pain. She wasn’t putting all of her weight behind it, wasn’t using her full strength. Not yet, at least. He grew more pliant the longer it went on, his voice muffled as he counted out the number of strikes when she asked him to. He made it to twenty before she decided that was enough, tears having dripped from his face down his arms and onto the ground, his backside nearly the same color as his lightsaber’s blade. With a little difficulty, she managed to heft him up to lay on the bed, carding her hands through his hair before she moved to get a cooling lotion she’d made sure to stock up on beforehand. It ought to at least suck some of the pain out. 

“You need to make sure you’re listening to me, Ben,” Rey said, keeping her voice quiet as she moved back towards him. “You did really well for me last night, and this morning. I’m proud of you for taking your punishment, but you know what it was for.” She spread a small dollop of the lotion on her hands and rubbed it slowly between her two palms. “Can you tell me why I did that?” 

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes hazy and his lips swollen from where he’d chewed on them. He looked younger than he was, the lines on his face having relaxed as he laid there and thought about it. “I was being a brat.” 

She nodded, and gently laid her hands on the aching and red skin of his backside. He hissed through his teeth at the sensation, the cold making him screw up his face with surprise, but as she carefully massaged the healing substance into his skin he began to relax once more. “Is it appropriate for you to be a brat to me?” 

“No.” 

“So what are we going to do next time I tell you something you may not like?” 

She could just begin to hear the wall between them, separating them, begin to crack, as though in his content state he no longer thought he needed it. She didn’t prod at it, letting him bring it down on his own, but smiled when she could feel the content sensation all but pouring out of his mind and into hers. 

“Listen to you. Not talk back.” 

She doubted it with just about everything she was, but nodded regardless. “Exactly. I’ll hold you to that from now on. You know how to act for me, and I’ll expect it each time we do this. Understood?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

 

He didn’t mouth off when he left a little while later, and for that she was, admittedly, relieved. Part of her worried this might be too much of an incentive to act out, that he might look at the whole thing as a right, not a privilege. Something about that lit a fire within her gut even after she’d brought him back to his room for the afternoon. His second guard had looked surprised at just how docile he’d been, gaze sneaking to Rey as he wandered all too obviously what it was she’d done, but she simply headed away instead. Again, the thought of the General finding out terrified her. 

 

“How’d it go with our favorite fallen pseudo-Sith?” Poe asked her a week later over a mug of ale, his words just audible over the din of the bar they’d traveled to after the day was done. They’d just finished up some extra X-Wing practice, Finn and Rey piloting, Poe directing and offering up help where he saw they could use it, and now was definitely time for relaxing. Poe’d told Finn about Rey’s bright idea, of course (because what he  _ didn’t  _ tell Finn could’ve filled a half page at most), and the man looked anxiously over at Rey as her cheeks went red. 

“Really well, I think. He’s . . . getting it. Slowly but surely.” 

Poe grinned and nudged her. “Hey! It means you were right, and that’s never a bad thing to find out!” 

No, she supposed not, and smiled into her next sip, ignoring the burn of the liquor down her throat. She’d take her victories where she could get them, she supposed, though Finn’s anxious look made her stomach uneasy. 

“I know you don’t like him, and don’t like this,” she started, but shut her mouth as Finn shook his head. 

“All that aside,” he said. “I understand why you’re doing it. I’m just worried he’s using you. That he’s not trying to get better and he’s taking advantage of the situation to get what he wants.”

Rey’d thought about that, but rather than make her feel any better it only soured her mood. “Finn, if you’re going to start pointing any fingers about who’s using who, it’s definitely the other way around.” Her realization sunk in, leadening her gut as she swallowed thickly. “I’m using him, using his weaknesses against him in order to get what we need, which is his compliance.” 

That shut them all up. With the scrape of her chair against the hardwood bar floor, Rey pushed herself away from the table. “I’m going to bed. Long day today.” She didn’t wait for either of them to say anything else, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she threw down enough credits to pay for her drink and tip before heading away. The cool, night air bit her face and caused her eyes to sting, but it was a welcome relief. As soon as she was far away she broke off into a run to the barracks, her mind going quiet in the steady thumping of her heart and the sweat that already beaded on her forehead even against the cold. 

She’d hardly had to walk into her room to figure out something was definitely  _ off _ . Her left hand hovered just over the handle to her door, teeth biting into her bottom lip as her right hand found her ‘saber at her side. She shoved the door open at the same time she’d ignited her weapon, so that the whole room was bathed in bright blue light. 

Ben looked up from his place on the bed, one of the dildos that Poe had so graciously given to Rey in Ben’s hand. He looked half mad in the light, his eyes wide, his lips parted in a grin that stretched his whole face, and her toes curled in anticipation of what his reaction was going to be. 

“Whoops,” he said simply, the word far more whimsical than perhaps it ought to have been. “Seems I’m out of my bed at an inappropriate hour. I need to be punished.” 

Rey’s thumb turned off her weapon, and she stowed it back at her side as her heart began to return to a reasonable speed once more. They stared at one another, the light from her open window painting Ben in paler than he’d ever looked before, save perhaps when he’d been bleeding out on what had once been Starkiller Base. He’d stared at her then like he’d never seen anyone like her before, like she was special. Holy, even after she’d cut up his face and his arm, after she’d beaten him at his own game. Now he looked similarly interested in her, as though he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but in her bed. 

She swallowed her pride with the bile that Finn’s words had brought on, and kicked the door shut behind her as she began to divest. His gaze swallowed her every movement, hungry for anything that she could give him, and when she ordered him to strip, in her quietest of voices, he followed the order without any hesitation.

 

When he said he wanted to be punished, Rey wasn’t so sure this was what he’d had in mind, but to Ben’s credit he’d not put up a fuss the whole time she bound his arms behind his back, or wrapped the collar around his throat that would connect to the manacles that constricted his upper arms. He’d certainly let her fit the ball gag into his mouth with the quietest of whines, and when she’d prepped him with two of her fingers and a great deal of lube he’d hardly even noticed that she’d jerked his head back with perhaps more roughness than necessary. The dildo that he’d been fondling was securely fastened around Rey’s hips, slicked up and ready to go whenever she deemed him worthy of it. As it was, her fingertips had been massaging his prostate for some ten minutes, angling her wrist so that it wouldn’t ache so quickly. She didn’t want the game to be finished before she’d even gotten started. 

He sobbed and chomped around the gag, saliva dripping down from between his parted lips as she  _ felt  _ him reach out to her through their bond. He wanted more, wanted to come, but anytime she so much as sensed he got close enough she backed off and instead focused on scissoring him open further. 

She wanted him to be a mess. An utter, debauched, mess. Wanted to see just how far she could drag him across that line he so loved to make her tiptoe around, and if she was feeling a little reckless with Finn’s words? Ben wasn’t complaining. She’d take that as an okay sign. 

She edged him for ten or so more minutes before removing her fingers from within him, delighting in the pathetic, disappointed whimper that left his lips. He turned to stare at her, eyes blown wide, cheeks so red it looked as though they were painted, and she found herself grinning in spite of herself. 

“Wanna come?” she purred, reaching around to fist his cock in her already slicked up hand. He jerked at the touch, nodding vigorously, but cried out moments later when she released him. “You can’t just yet. You haven’t proven to me how  _ sorry  _ you are for breaking into my room and getting into  _ my  _ things. Face the other way.” 

He whined again, and she could see the strain in his muscles as he did as she ordered, but he didn’t complain any further than that. Moving her hands to his hips, she pulled him back and onto her lap, parting his asscheeks to press the tip of the dildo against his reddened hole. If she’d thought he was tense before, it was nothing to how he tightened up at the sensation. 

“Ben, do you want this?” Rey asked, her voice quiet, body frozen with him poised on the edge of her strap on. He nodded so hard she got dizzy watching it, but didn’t turn around. She hadn’t allowed him to, and a sick surge of pride welled up within her. He was getting much better, and after only a handful of sessions. “Then you need to relax for me. You can do that, can’t you? Otherwise we can’t go on.” 

That seemed to be the magic word. He unclenched, and she slid with perhaps a little too much ease into him. She ought to have picked a thicker toy. 

He didn’t have any complaints, at least, if the high pitched keen coming from his mouth was anything to go off of. She angled her hips just so, wanting to continue to hit his prostate, and yanked him down with a hand in his hair once he was comfortably situated around the fake cock. His whole body jolted with the sensation, and she heard him choke on his surprise as she filled him to the hilt. 

“Good boy,” she crooned, releasing his hair to rub his back gently, tracing the freckles and moles that made up a galaxy of their own on his pale skin. He looked porcelain from the illumination coming in through the open window, and she wanted to run her teeth over every inch of muscle. He whined as she tilted her hips upwards ever-so slightly, and released his hair before she smacked his ass. “Alright. Now ride me, Ben. You have five minutes to get yourself off, and if you don’t in that time span you won’t get to all night.” 

Oh, how he rose to the challenge. He let out a low whine around the gag before he furiously pulled himself up off the cock, then slammed himself back down. She punctuated every other thrust with a new angle of her hips, noting that every so often his whole body would spasm as the dildo dragged across his prostate. For a half a minute she busied herself with intentionally positioning her body so as not to hit that sweet spot, and when he turned around to stare, aghast and panicked, at her she saw tear tracks down his face, his dark eyelashes clumped together, eyes glassy. It made her heart catch in her throat. 

Shit. “Still doing alright?” 

He nodded his head furiously, managing to squeak out “Fine” and when she didn’t deny him the pleasure any further he continued fucking himself as though his damn life depended on it. She watched his cock bob as he impaled himself over and over, and with a slow hand she palmed him once more. His back arched, and she gripped him all the harder. 

“You’ve only got about a minute and a half left,” she hissed. “Better make it count.” 

He only needed the extra minute. His whole body clenched as his pace quickened until she was sure her bones were going to be knocked out of alignment from how hard he was fucking himself on her. Before she could say much more his back was arching, cock pulsing as he spurted onto her bed sheets. The pale skin she’d admired before was darkened with a deep flush that ran, she was sure, from his neck down to his dick, which was a furious red color even as he came. His biceps flexed, and his hands balled into fists behind him, as his body struggled to make it through the aftershocks, before promptly rolling forward and falling just about face first onto the bed. Rey might’ve snickered if the sight of him, fucked out and blissful, wasn’t so damn pretty. He was still breathing pretty hard, his chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern, as she reached forward to slowly undo the bindings that’d marked up his skin, leaving red bands where they’d held him in place. Sure enough, the leather of his arm bindings had nearly cut into the skin he’d strained against them so hard, and she ran her fingers gently over the markings they’d left behind. 

“Feeling good?” she asked quietly as she removed the gag from his mouth. It wasn’t exactly the punishment she’d had in mind and part of her worried about it only rewarding the bad behavior. Still, the look he shot her as he nodded, his swollen lips falling open even without the gag to keep them that way, all but confirmed she might not have to worry too much. 

“Real good.” His voice was broken, and while she’d fully anticipated Ben to curl up and pass out, he turned and slid between her legs. His movements were anything but graceful, too broken up and jittery courtesy of his still aching muscles, but he mouthed at her inner thigh with such intent that it didn’t take her too long to figure out what it was he wanted. She arched a brow, cupping his chin to force him to look at her. 

“You think you deserve to taste me?” she asked, voice hard. 

He nodded. “I came--you told me to.” 

“You still broke into my room. You don’t get to taste me when you want to, how you want to. Get on the floor, on your knees.” 

She half expected him to resist, to complain of being too exhausted. When he simply slipped down from the comfort of her mattress to the unforgiving hardwood floor without a comment she couldn’t help but smile. “Good boy,” she murmured, before moving to stand as well. As she’d thought, her slit aligned nearly perfectly with his lips so long as he tilted his head back far enough. He did so without her having to ask, his dark eyes holding her gaze as she dug her right hand into his hair and ground her slit against his face. “Now you can fuck me with your mouth. Make me come all over your tongue, boy.” 

She just caught the excitement that glazed his eyes, the glimmer that told her she had no idea what she had coming, before his tongue slid up inside of her, and his nose brushed against her clit with a certain, pointed pressure. She groaned in surprise, her head tipping backwards as she ground herself against his mouth again. He might as well have been made for this, and she whined low in her throat as he swallowed the arousal that’d pooled between her legs the instant she’d seen him in her room. When she looked down to stare at him, the color high in her cheeks and breath coming in short, unsteady pants, she couldn’t help but notice how much he seemed to be enjoying himself, too. His tongue slid out from within her to lay flat against her clit, and as she shrieked with pleasure his eyes narrowed and he repeated the process, clearly delighting in making her cry out. 

When her legs began to shake with her oncoming orgasm, his hands slid up to hold onto her hips and his tongue dipped back into her slit, swallowing the rush of come as she screamed with her orgasm. Her hands fisted in his hair as he pressed slow, sloppy kisses to her cunt and took everything she had to give him. 

He didn’t even complain about his knees aching, when she invited him back up into her bed with her as soon as she was able to pull herself away from his mouth. He stayed silent as he curled up on the bed and let her wrap an arm around his waist, holding him tight to her body. He fell asleep as her fingers played across his shoulder blades, whole body going lax in her grip. 

Maybe they were both still learning, Rey mused, pressing her cheek to the warm stretch of his back. They had time to make it perfect whatever sort of situation was between them, and if it was getting him to behave in the long run . . . he might never be the man he was before, but who was? 


End file.
